Retributions of a Queen
by tragicbeauty1991
Summary: When Iracebeth's ghost seeks revenge against Alice, Stayne and the Hatter must make some difficult choices to protect their wives and children, and someone may not make it out alive.  Sequel to "Reflections of a Champion".  I don't own Alice in Wonderland
1. Red Tide Rising

**Author's Note: Hi, everyone! Just a quick notes before we get started. First of all, I'd like to emphasize that this is a SEQUEL to my other story "Reflections of a Champion," so if you haven't read that story, please consider reading it first, otherwise this one won't really make any sense. Second, I'd like to thank my friend KatherineNotGreat for allowing me to adapt a scene from one of her stories to fit this one and for helping me realize what a fun character Stayne can be to write. (Though the Hatter's still my fav.) Last but not least, I don't own Alice in Wonderland, but I DO own my OC's Violet, Hazel, and Phoenix. If you ever want to use any of these OC's in your future stories, you're welcome to do so as long as you credit me. Alright, that's it! Please R&R and enjoy!**

**~CaptainHooksGirl~**

**Chapter 1: Red Tide Rising**

Queen Mirana Stayne stepped gracefully into the edge of the surf, her pale bare feet sinking slightly into the sand as the sparkling waters of the Crimson Sea rushed around her ankles in turquoise rivulets [1]. She closed her eyes and sighed happily, relishing the feel of the sand between her toes and the tangy, salty scent of the ocean.

Ever since she could remember Mirana had loved visiting the coast. As a child, she had come often with her family, occasionally convincing her parents to allow the royal hatter's apprentice or the young knave-in-training to tag along with them. Mirana smiled at the memory of a much younger Stayne chasing her round the beach, flinging gobs of goopy, wet sand like snowballs at her perfectly pristine white bathing gown. In the end, of course, he had caught up to her, smearing sand all over her dress. She'd returned the favor by sticking a crab down the back of his shirt, giggling like mad as he danced around the beach trying to get it off and stumbled right into Racy's magnificent sand castle. Afterwards, they'd both gotten a good screaming at from the red-haired princess and a couple of pinches from the understandably irate crustacean, but it had been fun, nonetheless, and it remained one of her favorite childhood memories.

She frowned, suddenly. It had been nearly four years since the death of her sister, and while she should have been happy about the end of the Red Queen's reign of terror, it saddened her that they had not been able to come to a peaceful agreement.

She stared at her reflection, the afternoon sunlight illuminating her shoulder-length hair like ringlets of white gold around her pale cheeks. Her sleeveless white gown fell to her ankles in uneven swaths of gauzy-like material accented with tiny seed pearls and silvery sequins that glistened with every ruffle of the breeze. She studied the other-self with interest. Though she was taller and more slender than her sister, she had the same porcelain skin, the same liquid obsidian eyes, the same blood that ran through her veins. No matter how much she might want to escape the shadow of her elder sister, she was always there in the mirror, staring back at her in her own face, haunting her. Mirana was nothing like Iracebeth, would never become the monster that her sister had been, but the thought that she had been ultimately responsible for the Red Queen's death troubled her.

The gentle warmth of a hand on her shoulder brought Mirana out of such melancholy thoughts as the dark figure of her husband joined her reflection. Standing more than two feet taller than her and garbed in a black waistcoat and matching cloak, the former knave was quite an imposing figure. He wrapped his good arm around her waist and drew her close against his side.

"Remember when we used to come here as children?"

The queen smiled and looked up from her reflection, reaching a hand up to stroke his handsome scarred face. "How could I forget?"

The king smirked. "Well, if your memory needs refreshing…"

The queen put her hands on her hips and gave him a mock glare. "Illosovic Stayne, if you dare throw sand at me again, I will personally see to it that your lovely silk cloak is thoroughly drenched in seawater…Unless, of course, you desire to have another crab down your shirt!"

The former knave raised an eyebrow and gave a rakish grin. "'Tis _you _that I desire, my queen."

She shoved him away playfully. "Oh, you horrid man!"

He leaned down and kissed her gently on the lips, then grinned again. "Come, now. That wasn't so absolutely horrid, was it?"

Mirana shook her head and laughed softly. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you, Stayne."

A sudden squeal of childish laughter and raucous splashing cut short their conversation as a small girl in a lavender dress ran wildly through the tide pools, short black curls bouncing against her shoulders with each step of her pudgy snow-white legs.

"She's growing up quickly," Stayne mused. "Seems as though only yesterday the kingdom was celebrating her birth."

"Yes. It's hard to believe she's already three years old." The queen smiled. "She reminds me so much of you."

Stayne snorted. "Well, let's hope she didn't inherit my rather poor moral compass. Lord help us all if her adolescent years are anything like mine!"

Before Mirana could respond, she heard another loud series of splashes coming from behind and felt a small pair of wet arms wrap around her leg. "Mummy! Daddy! Guess what I found!"

Stayne knelt down so that he'd be closer to his daughter's level, his long cape billowing in the breeze behind him. "What have you found, my little flower? A pretty seashell, perhaps?"

The girl shook her head excitedly. "Nope! Even better! I found pirate treasure!"  
>The king gave his wife an amused grin before looking back to their daughter. "Really, now? Well, that certainly is a most interesting find! May I see it?"<p>

The dark-haired girl jabbed a hand into her dress pocket, then put her tiny fist in her father's open palm, uncurling her chubby fingers to reveal a large ruby pendant attached to a golden chain. Stayne's jaw went slack and Mirana gave a sudden gasp.

"Isn't it pretty, Daddy? It even has our sign, see? May I keep it, Daddy? May I?"

Stayne hesitantly flipped the pendant over, and sure enough, there was Underland's royal family crest – a dove with an olive branch settled atop a heart-shaped shield guarded by a lion on the left and a unicorn on the right. [2] He held the necklace by the chain, allowing the precious stone to dangle loosely, spinning slightly in the warm sea breeze. He'd recognize this pendant anywhere. When he finally found his voice, it was a harsh whisper. "Violet, darling, where did you find this?"[3]

The girl bit her lip and looked down at her bare feet, wiggling her toes in the sand. "In one of the pools. I was digging in the sand to make a sand castle, and I found it." She looked up into her father's single eye, her own dark eyes clouded with confusion. "Am I in trouble?"

Mirana placed a gentle hand on her daughter's head. "No, dear one. Of course not." She tried to smile, but it was a strained, painful effort.

Violet frowned. "What's wrong, Mummy?"

"Nothing, Violet, dear."

"You look sad."

Mirana smiled at her daughter's concern. "Well, you know what would make me feel better? A big, beautiful seashell. Do you think could find one for me?"

The girl nodded seriously. "Oh, yes, Mummy! I'll find you the prettiest shell in the whole world! Just wait and see!" And with that, she ran off, completely forgetting about the reaction her "pirate treasure" had caused, for what troubles a grown-up will never trouble a child.[4]

Mirana sighed, taking the necklace from her husband and running her thumb over the golden etching of the family emblem. She leaned against his chest and allowed a few hot tears to slip down her porcelain cheeks. "Is it wrong of me to still miss her this much?"

"She was your sister…It is not wrong for you to love her."

Mirana shook her head. "She killed so many innocent people. How can I still care for someone who has caused the ones I love so much suffering?"

He knew she was speaking of the Horevundush Day, though she did not say so out loud. "You forget that I was as much a part of what happened that day as Iracebeth." He smiled sadly at his wife, his queen. "Yet somehow you still manage to love me."

"If not for her, you never would have done it in the first place."

"I am a grown man, Mirana. I made the decision to follow her orders."

"But when you were given a second chance, you made the right decision. That is why I love you." She glanced down at the pendant in her hand. "I gave her this on her eighteenth birthday. She was wearing it on the day of the battle."

Stayne wrapped his arms around her. "While there are many things in my life that I regret, eliminating Iracebeth is not one of them, but I am sorry for the pain that I have caused you in doing so."

Mirana felt fresh tears escape her eyes. "You did what I should have done, what I could not do…"

"I can understand why it wouldn't be easy for you."

"Doing the right thing isn't always easy." Mirana laid her head against his chest and looked up into his single eye. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

She motioned to the beautiful beach scene before them. "For this…for our daughter…for everything."

"Mummy! Mummy!" The queen felt a soft tug at her skirt and looked down to see Violet holding up a large purple and cream colored conch shell. "This is for you! It took me forever to find it, but I think I got the right one. Do you like it?"

Mirana smiled and bent down to accept the shell, placing a kiss atop her daughter's soft, black curls. "It's perfect, darling. Perfect and beautiful just like my little girl. Now, then, I think it's time for us to be heading home."

"Awwww! Mummy, must we leave now?"

"I'm afraid so. It will be getting dark soon, and the horses have been waiting for quite some time."

Stayne spoke up. "Why don't you come and help me with horses, Violet?"

Pouting, she reluctantly reached up to grab her father's hand. "Alright…"

Mirana shot her husband a knowing glance, then looked back to their daughter. "You two run along now, I'll be there shortly."

For a while, she watched them leave, father and daughter walking hand in hand. It was rather amusing to see such an awkwardly tall man, missing an eye as well as a hand, leading such a small and innocent young girl, but to the queen, the sight was heartwarming. Turning back to the sea, she looked out toward the horizon, to the place where Iracebeth's body had been laid to rest. Blinking back her tears, she held the pendant close to her heart and whispered the words she'd never had the chance to say on the battlefield so long ago.

"Fairfarren, dear sister. You will always be in my heart."

Receiving no answer but the whisper of the waves, the queen sighed and turned to leave. Had she lingered a bit longer, she would have noticed the setting sun staining the water an ominous shade of red.

[1] Yes, I realize that a "sea" and an "ocean" are not technically the same thing, but I wanted to do a "beach scene" in this chapter so please just ignore this inaccuracy for the time being.

[2] The dove, representing peace and purity, is symbolic of Mirana. The heart-shaped shield ideally represents love, but is also symbolic of Iracebeth, the "Queen of Hearts." The lion (courage and royalty) and the unicorn (magic and the healing arts) are a nod to the original _Alice_ books in which the two creatures constantly fight for the crown.

[3] For those of you who remember from "Reflections of a Champion," violet is Mirana's favorite color, and Stayne, as one of the few people who knows this about her, presented her with a black rose tinged in violet as a token of his love on the evening before the final battle with Alicia and Iracebeth. When Mirana finally gave birth to the child she was carrying at Alice's return, they named the beautiful baby girl "Violet" in honor of their love for one another. Though future "White Queen," Violet loves the color purple just like her mother and wears it constantly.

[4] Reference to _Peter Pan_.


	2. Blood on Her Hands

**Chapter Two: Blood on Her Hands**

Tarrant Hightopp entered the throne room with a grin on his face and a cartload of hats. "Good morning, Your Majesties!"

He was just about to doff his signature top hat when a familiar streak of lavender came flying toward him, wrapping her arms around his legs and nearly knocking him to the ground. "Hatty! Hatty!"

The Hatter chuckled and reached down to give the little princess a gentle pat on the head. "And good morning to you, too, Miss Violet! Did you have a good time at the sea?"

"Oh, yes! It was so much fun! I found a pretty seashell and I played in the pools and I even found pirate treasure!"

"Pirate treasure, hmm?" He glanced up at the king and queen, who looked strangely uncomfortable. He shrugged it off, assuming they were just tired from their journey the previous day. "Well, sounds like you had quite the adventure! You'll make a great queen someday, yet!"

Violet giggled, then gasped in awe as she noticed the pile of hats. Racing over to the cart, she picked up a small purple sun hat trimmed in lavender and adorned with two white flowers resembling daisies. "Ooooh! I think this one is lovely!"

Hatter grinned. "Well, that's certainly good to know, considering I made it for you."

"You mean I can keep it?"

"Yes, yes! Of course…That is, unless you'd like me to change it. I have lots of buttons and sequins and feathers I could add. Or maybe different ribbon? Perhaps it's not the right shade, and you simply must have the right shade, you know, because it's a sun hat and without the right shade it won't keep out the sun and that would defeat the purpose and – "

"Hatty!" she giggled.

Tarrant cleared his throat and looked down rather sheepishly. "Right, yes…I'm fine."

Violet placed the hat on her head and began twirling and dancing around the room. "And this hat is fine just the way it is!"

He smiled again. "I'm glad you like it. And as for you, Majesties," he glanced up at the throne, "I believe I've prepared all the hats you requested for yourselves and the court. I do hope they're to your liking."

Mirana clapped her hands. "Wonderful! The court simply adores your hats. In fact, I've already received another long list of requests. Lady Ghemaine's family is hosting a party for her son's engagement next week, and I daresay every one of her relatives wants you to make something for them!"

Taking the list from Mirana's outstretched hand, he took a quick glance at the orders and whistled. "Quite a tall order, indeed! Well, then, I'd best get back to work! Wouldn't want them to be late, you know!"

"Can I come watch you in the workshop?" Violet pleaded. "I can help pick out the colors!"

"Violet," Stayne warned, "the Hatter is very busy. He doesn't need you stirring up any trouble in the workshop."

"Oh, nonsense!" Hatter waved a bandaged hand toward the princess. "She's no trouble at all! In fact, I'd say she's quite the little hattress herself!"

"That's what I'm afraid of…" the king mumbled. He glanced between a rather confused-looking Hatter and an equally puzzled princess and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. They wouldn't like what he was going to say. "Violet, I don't want you visiting the workshop anymore."

"What? Why not? I'll be good! I won't get in the way, I promise!"

He knelt to her level and placed his hand on her shoulder."I know you won't, darling, but…"

"Then why can't I – "

He glanced briefly at Tarrant, sending an apologetic look. "Because it's not safe."

"Not safe from what? Hatty wouldn't hurt me!"

"Violet…"

"No! You're wrong!"

"Violet…" he growled.

"I won't stay away, and you can't make me!"

"VIOLET!" She flinched, and instantly, he regretted losing his temper. He sighed. "Violet, go to your room. The Hatter and I need to talk."

"Yes, Daddy," she whispered. As she walked over to take her mother's hand and go upstairs, she glanced back and waved. "Bye, Hatty."

The Hatter returned the gesture, if only half-heartedly.

When Mirana and Violet had left the room, Stayne started to speak. "It's not you I don't trust, Hightopp, it's that mercury. It's not safe for her to be around the fumes and – "

"…And you don't want her to end up like me," he said quietly. His eyes were bordering on blue, a strange turquoise mixture of confusion and hurt.

The former knave wasn't sure how to respond to the Hatter's statement. "I only want what's best for my daughter."

"I understand." Tarrant doffed his hat and turned to leave. "If you or Mirana should need anything, I'll…I'll be in the workshop."

Upon reaching the workshop, Tarrant was surprised to hear the sound of footsteps and shuffling papers coming from within the room. Curious, he quietly opened the door and saw his wife standing over his desk, doing her best to organize the massive stack of orders and sketches and random bits of fabric strewn across his desk. Smiling, he came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, leaning his head against her shoulder.

"You know, I'll never find anything in this mess if you insist on hiding all of my papers in neat little stacks put away in some drawer."

Alice shook her head, blonde curls bouncing against her shoulders and tickling the Hatter's cheek. "Hatter, it looks as though a hurricane swept through here! And I'm not _hiding_ your papers. I'm _organizing _them."

"Oh, but it's so much easier to find them when they're where I've left them!"

"Which is spread out all over your desk…and the chairs…and the floor…"

"But of course! They're right out in the open where I can see them!"

Alice laughed and shook her head again, turning her face toward his and giving him a quick peck on the cheek. "You make absolutely no sense!"

The Hatter grinned, lowering his hands to her waist where he felt the bulge of their developing child. They had tried so hard to have a child, but for years nothing had come of it and now finally, it seemed as though their prayers had been answered. The day he found out he was to become a father was the happiest day of his life – well, next to the day of their wedding, perhaps! But suddenly, his smile faltered, replaced by a worried frown.

"Hatter?" Alice called him from his thoughts. "What's wrong?"

Tarrant released her from his embrace and turned away. "Alice…Alice do you think that…that our littl'un will be…mad…like me…?"

Alice turned him so that they faced one another and looked up into his troubled cerulean eyes. She smiled and stroked a lock of his unruly orange hair. "All the best people are, remember?"

He looked down, shamefully. "You know that's not what I meant, Alice."

Alice frowned. "You've always embraced your madness, as have I…Why the sudden worry that something is wrong with you?"

He winced, as if in pain. "Something _is_ wrong with me, Alice. You know that. I don't just make up nonsense riddles and laugh at inappropriate times. If that were all, it wouldn't be a problem...Half the time, I can't even finish a sentence without rambling on for what seems like hours until someone stops me. I shake for no apparent reason, and when I become angry it's like I'm a completely different person and I don't even know what I'm doing! I don't want that for our child…I wouldn't wish this curse on anyone."

"Stayne said something about Violet being the workshop, didn't he?"

"What? How did you - "

Alice looked down guiltily. "Mirana told me he was concerned about her spending so much time near the mercury. I spoke with him about it, and at one point, he even went so far as to tell me that I shouldn't spend time in your workshop until after the baby comes! I know he meant well, but of all the nerve! I – "

"But what if he's right? What if it's the mercury that's been preventing us from having a child? What if something goes wrong? Or what if I go mad and harm the child? What if – "

Alice rolled her eyes. "What if the sky turns to fire, and your nose falls off?[1] Tarrant Hightopp, I have said it before, and I will say it again: I love you just the way you are. And so will our child. And whether that child is as proper as an English lord or as mad as a hatter, we will love him." She cradled his face in her hands. "Don't worry so much…Everything will be fine. I promise."

"What if I'm not a good father, Alice? I don't know anything about raising a child…"

"Neither do I." She took his hands in hers. "So we'll just have to learn together. Hatter, this child is going to be wonderful because he is ours. A part of you and a part of me. The madness is a part of you…and if our child is mad as well, then it will only make him more dear to me because in his eyes I'll see you." She wrapped her arms around him and buried her head in his chest. "I love you, you silly madman. Nothing will ever change that."

Hatter smiled softly, but his voice was serious. "Alrigh', but fer the sake o' whate'er is left o' me sanity, Alice, please stay away from me workshop…jes until the littl'un comes…It worries me…" There was a sudden mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "And do stop hiding my work orders. It's very difficult to make a hat for someone when I don't know what they want!"

Alice laughed, then suddenly gasped. "Oh!"

"Alice?"

"Oh, dear, I think you've made the baby laugh as well! He's practically futterwhackening in there!"

Tarrant grinned. "Alice, you keep saying 'him' when you talk about the baby. What makes you so sure that it is, in fact, a 'him' and not a 'her'?"

She shook her head. "I don't know…I just…have a feeling that it's a boy."

"And if it isn't?"

"I'll be happy either way."

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

Alice paused for a moment, as if in thought. "Well…I was thinking that it would be nice for us to come up with a name together. Perhaps you could pick the first name and I'd pick the middle or the other way around…For a girl I like the name Ariel or Ariella…It means 'Lion of God'. Perfect name for a future champion of Underland, don't you think?"

"Quite. And if it's a wee little boy?"

"Charles." Alice smiled wistfully. "After my father. What about you? What names would you choose?"

"Raven," he whispered. "After my sister.[2] Or Phoenix."

Alice knit her brows in confusion. "Phoenix?"

Hatter frowned. "You don't like the name?"

"Oh, no! I think it's lovely! But where did it come from? Why Phoenix?"

"Because from th' ashes o' me clan the Hightopps will rise again."

Alice smiled and tested the new names on her tongue. "Raven Ariella Hightopp and Phoenix Charles Hightopp…"

"Hmmm…I like it!" Hatter grinned.

"So do I. The perfect names for a perfect child." She kissed him softly on the lips but a sudden knock at the door ruined the moment.

"Oh-oh d-dear! I'm sorry!" The white rabbit stood in the doorway, looking nervous as always. "Th-the door was open, and I just assumed that – "

"Quite alright, Nivens," the Hatter interrupted. "Do come in."

"Oh, thank you, Hatter, but I just dropped by for a moment, really. Queen Mirana sent me to tell you both that she is calling an emergency meeting with Absolem. Something has come up with oraculum, and she wanted you two present for the discussion."

Alice and Tarrant shared a worried glance.

"What sort of 'something'?" Alice asked. "Is something bad about to happen?"

McTwisp shook his head. "I – I don't know what's been predicted. She didn't say."

The Hatter looked from Alice to the rabbit. "Tell her we'll be there in a moment."

The solemn assembly of Underlanians in the throne room was a far cry from the fun and laughter-filled gatherings to which Alice had become accustomed. Sitting at a long table that had been brought in from the dining hall was a seemingly mismatched collection of characters: on the far end sat the king with Queen Mirana on his right. Beside her was Bayard, followed by Beille and a few of their oldest pups. Next came Mally, who had to stand on a pile of books so that she could see over the table, then Uilleam the dodo bird. On the opposite side of the table sat the Tweedles and McTwisp along with the grinning Cheshire Cat, who insisted on floating over the chair rather than actually sitting in it. Next to Chess there were two empty seats, which Alice assumed were reserved for her and Tarrant, and at the head of the table Absolem, the brilliant blue butterfly and keeper of the oraculum, was perched on the edge of the table with the ancient scroll lying rolled up neatly in front of him. Alice took the seat nearest Chess, hoping to prevent any unnecessary arguments between the cat and her husband, and Tarrant obligingly sat between her and Absolem.

The cat grinned as Alice took her seat. "Late as usual, I see," he purred. "Though I'm surprised at you, Tarrant. You're never late. Alice must be wearing off on you."

"I'm never late for _tea_, Chess. This, however, is not tea."

The feline's grin faltered. "Yes, unfortunately, this is not quite so happy of an occasion."

Alice glanced around. "Where's Thackery?"

"'E's in the kitchen." Mally pointed with her hatpin sword. "Said 'e 'ad tah work on somethin' an' didn't 'ave time for the meetin'. I guess 'e'll just ask me tah fill 'im in on the details later."

Absolem cleared his throat. "Alright everyone, settle down. Settle down. Now, then, if we're all present, I'd like to call this meeting to order." He glanced around the room one final time to check for any empty seats. "As keeper of the oraculum, it has recently come to my attention that something most unusual has appeared on the scroll. As you know, the oraculum only gives us a glimpse into what _may_ happen. It does not determine what _will_ happen. Therefore, while I ask that you take what I am about to say seriously, do not become overly alarmed. The future can yet be changed."

"What does the oraculum say?" Alice asked impatiently.

The butterfly drew a long puff from his hookah, blowing smoke into her face. "The oraculum does not _say_ anything, stupid girl."

The Hatter glared, his eyes a turning molten orange gold. "Dinnae be callin' mah wife names, ye irksome insect!"

Absolem casually drew another puff and rolled his eyes. "Think of it as a pet name, Tarrant." The Hatter opened his mouth to make a retort, but before he could say anything, the butterfly continued. "And don't even think about swatting me if you care to know about the danger she's in."

The Hatter leapt up, nearly knocking over his chair. "Alice is in danger?"

"I was getting to that," the butterfly replied. "Now, if you'll let me finish…"

Tarrant reluctantly sat down, reaching for Alice's hand as Absolem continued.

"According to the oraculum, something terrible is coming. It is unclear what it is or from whence it comes, but after it arrives, Alice disappears from the scroll…permanently." Seeing the Hatter's horrified expression, he gave him a rare apologetic look. "Unroll the oraculum, Tarrant."

With shaking hands, the Hatter hesitantly opened the scroll, terrified of what he might see. When the oracle was finally spread across the table, everyone who had been craning their necks to see suddenly drew back, for it was nothing like they'd ever seen. Beginning with the present day, it showed their current meeting at the White Castle. The next scene was of Stayne and the Hatter walking through the palace, followed by the image of the princess crying in distress. The next picture showed Alice, her face distraught with paralyzing fear. Then there was nothing. Absolutely nothing but red for several feet of the scroll, as if the oracle had been dipped into a pool if blood. When the scarlet stain finally ended, images of the others re-emerged…but there was no sign of Alice.

Mirana, who looked as though she was ready to either faint or throw up put a hand to her mouth, as if to ward off the sick feeling. "Is…is that…?"

"Blood," Alice answered, touching her fingers to the scroll. They came away wet. "My blood."

[1] Reference to _Pocahontas II_. Hehe…I love Grandmother Willow!

[2] Reference to my other story "Out of the Ashes."


	3. Have I Gone Mad?

**Chapter Three: Have I Gone Mad?**

"I don't understand what good it will do for me to go into hiding. I am the queen's champion! If someone or something is after me, shouldn't I be the one to fight it?"

The former knave stooped to right another chair that had been toppled in Tarrant's latest fit of madness. He hadn't taken the oraculum's prediction well. "Alice," Stayne insisted, "you're in no condition to fight."

"I've fought a jabberwocky _and_ Underland's most powerful sorceress, and I defeated them both!"

"Aye," the Hatter agreed, "but back then ye weren't carryin' mah wee bairn. Please, Alice," he begged. "Ah thought Ah'd lost ye once an' it was more than Ah could bear. I cannae lose ye again."

Alice looked between the two men, hoping that one of them would take her side. Finding no ally, she huffed a sigh of defeat. "Fine. But I'm only going on one condition." She looked first to the king, then to her husband. "If something should go wrong…If…if I cannot be saved…promise that you will leave me. I will not have any lives lost on my account."

The Hatter looked distressed. "Alice, I – "

"Daddy?" A small head of dark curls peered around from behind one of the table legs.

Stayne looked down. "Violet, darling, what are you doing down here? I thought you were upstairs."

The girl came out from her hiding place, taking her father's hand in her right and dragging a teddy bear in her left. "I heard screaming and crashing and I got scared."

The Hatter looked down shamefully. He was always very careful of his actions around the princess and so far, she hadn't seen him in one of his truly bad fits of madness. That he had frightened her without even being in the same room made him feel terrible. What would she think if she ever saw his eyes go red and heard his Outlandish brogue? What would his own son or daughter think of him? He hung his head.

"Hatty?" He felt the girl's tiny arms wrap around his leg. "Are you alright?"

He did his best to smile. "I'm fine."

Violet was not convinced. She frowned. "That's what Mummy said yesterday, but I don't think she was happy. But then I found her a shell and that made it all better. But I don't have any more shells." Suddenly, she brightened, holding out her teddy bear. "Here. My teddy always helps me when I'm sad…You can keep him until you feel better."[1]

Tarrant was in shocked. Such a simple act of kindness, and yet it meant so very much. When he finally managed to speak, he was a bit choked up. "Oh, Violet, you don't have to do that."

"But I want to!" she insisted. She shook her dark curls. "I don't like it when you're sad."

He knelt down to her level. "Won't you miss your teddy?"

The girl looked thoughtful for a moment. "Yes, but you need him more. I know you'll take good care of him. And he'll make you happy again."

The Hatter smiled. "You know, I think it's already starting to work."

Violet grinned. "I knew it would!" Suddenly, she pointed toward a chair where the oraculum lay partially unrolled. "What's that up there? Why is the paper all red?"

"That is the oraculum," Tarrant answered, pointedly avoiding her second question.

The princess scrunched up her face. "What's a-a…a 'raclum?"

"Well…it's a very special scroll…"

Violet walked over to the chair and examined the paper more closely. "I don't see anything special about it…" She started to reach for the scroll but was stopped when her father grabbed her hand and gently pulled her away from the chair.

"Violet, dear, why don't you go and see if you can help Thackery in the kitchen?"

"But I want to stay here with you an' Alice an' Hatty!"

"Violet…"

Seeing the direction in which things were going, the Hatter decided to intervene. Still holding the girl's teddy bear, he walked over and bent down again, wrapping his arm around her shoulder. "Violet, let me tell you a little secret. You may not know this, but Thackery won't let just _anyone_ help in his kitchen."

"He won't?"

"Oh, no! Only very special people can help him with his cooking. Now, Thackery tells me you helped him make some delicious squimberry tarts, is that right?" Violet nodded. "Well, I'll make you a deal. If you go help Thackery make a batch of tarts, I'll make you a new hat. How does that sound?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can it be purple?"

Hatter grinned. "It can be whatever color you want! In fact," he said, holding up her teddy bear, "why don't you and Teddy both go help Thackery, and maybe, just maybe, I'll make a new hat for Teddy, too." He winked.

Violet snatched the bear from his hands. "Oh! Teddy would love that! Wouldn't you, Teddy? Come, Teddy, let's go find Thacky!" And with that, she left, sprinting off toward the kitchen as fast as her short legs would carry her.

The Hatter stared after her for awhile, smiling as he stood.

Stayne was shaking his head. "I don't know how you do it, Hightopp. I can never get her to listen that well…You're going to be a remarkable father someday."

"You have a rather remarkable daughter, yourself…" His face fell, his gaze wandering to the floor. "She…she remin's me o' mah li'l sister."

Stayne stiffened. "I'm sorry."

The Hatter looked up, his eyes flickering between gold and blue. He sighed. "What's done is done. Ah fergave ye a long time ago. The hard part is tryin' tah ferget." He gave the king quick nod before turning to his wife, taking her arm in his. "Come, Alice. We should start packing soon if you're to leave by nightfall."

_He was standing by the ocean again, staring out at the horizon where the waters met the sky and sparkled like a thousand precious gems. The sun was shining brightly, kissing the waves and caressing his skin with its brilliant golden light. In the distance, a few ships could be seen sailing along the fragile line that separated sea and sky. He wondered where they were headed. Were they traders coming to make port at the Crimson Harbor and sell their wares? Were they fishermen? Perhaps they were simply out sailing to enjoy the warm sea breezes and the beautiful day. And what a perfect day it was! There was no sound, save the lonely cry of the gulls and the soft lullaby of the sea as its waves crashed against the shore. Stayne sighed contentedly and put his arm around his wife, pulling her close and relishing the gentle weight of her head against his chest._

_But suddenly the sky grew dark and the scene began to change. Black billowing thunderclouds gathered overhead, swirling like smoke in the breeze, which had become strangely cool. The deep rumble of thunder like the angry growl of a giant shook the ground, rattling the foundation of the ancient ruins on which he stood. A bolt of lightning lit up the sky, striking close enough that he could feel the heat of the charged air. He searched frantically for his wife, hoping to find her somewhere nearby. He heard a scream and started racing up the stairs, heart pounding heavily as he neared the top. _

"_Mirana!" He raced to her side but found he was too late. Her body had grown cold; her dark eyes clouded with the veil of death stared up to the heavens with an empty expression. "No! NO!" _

_As he held her lifeless body in his arms, a blinding flash of lightning illuminated the silhouette of another figure standing a few feet away. The Red Queen smiled sadistically. "Hello, Stayne."_

_He stood to his full height, towering over his former employer. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?" he snarled._

_The queen rolled her eyes nonchalantly. "_I _did not do anything to her. _You _brought this on her yourself." Her smile was sickly sweet. "She died of grief because she blames herself for my death...Of course, we both know who was really responsible for that."_

_Stayne narrowed his eye. "And I don't regret it."_

"_Oh, but in time, you will…You will…"_

_He backed her up against a pillar, wrapping his enormous gloved hand around her throat. "You will NOT harm my family!" He tightened his grip but was surprised to find that Iracebeth was no longer within his grasp. He heard a noise behind him and swerved around to find himself face to face with the queen._

"_You know, funny thing about being dead," she paused to inspect her nails, as if she was afraid she might have chipped one. "No one can harm me. Unfortunately, I can't kill anyone either. I'd need a body to do that for me." She looked pointedly in his direction._

"_What do you want with me?"_

_She smirked. "I want you to help me get revenge. I want you eliminate the one who kept me from becoming queen. I want you to GET RID OF ALICE!"_

_Stayne eyed her suspiciously. "And if I refuse?"_

_There was venom in her voice. "I will never stop haunting you. I will make my sister so miserable that she will despair of life itself, spending every waking hour in pain and every night in tears." She was advancing toward him, pushing him toward the edge of the ruins out over the sea. "And that pretty little daughter of yours? I'll get inside her head. I'll frighten her so terribly she'll never speak to you again. I'll tell her the truth. I'll tell her how you sliced off heads. I'll tell her what _really _happened to the Hightopp clan. I'll tell her how you whipped her 'Hatty' senseless and left him for dead in the dungeons. I'll tell her who you _really _are. I'll tear your family apart. Help me get rid of Alice, Stayne, or I WILL MAKE YOUR LIFE A LIVING HELL!"_

_He stumbled backwards, losing his balance as the bricks beneath his feet gave way, crumbling beneath his weight. He was hanging from the edge, dangling off the side of the tower by his left hand. Iracebeth stood over him._

"_You know, it really is a pity you chose to work for her instead of me…We would have made a great team…You should learn to choose your friends more carefully, Stayne." She stepped on his fingers, crushing them beneath her weight. She smiled as he struggled to hang on. "Long live the king."_[2]

_ The last thing he heard was the sound of her wicked laughter as he fell plummeting into the sea._

Stayne woke with a start. Gasping for breath, he put his hand to his chest and waited for his racing heart to return to a normal pace. He looked to his left, relieved to see that his wife was still beside him, still alive and breathing. He sighed and ran his fingers through his sweat-drenched hair. This was the fifth night in a row he'd woken up in such a distressed state. Ever since his daughter had found the so-called "pirate treasure" at the beach, he'd been ill at ease, and the oraculum's prediction of coming doom had only added fuel to the proverbial fire. Then the nightmares had come. They varied from night to night, but the ending message was always the same: Find a way to eliminate Alice or watch your family come apart at the seams.

Having calmed his nerves, he lay back down, folding his arms behind his head and staring up at the ceiling. He never could get back to sleep after having one of those dreams, so he resigned himself to wait patiently until the light of dawn, allowing his thoughts to wander. He wondered how long it would take for Mirana to say something. She already knew something was amiss, sending him several worried glances throughout the day. He knew his lack of sleep was beginning to show. He looked tired during the day, and his patience was wearing thinner than it had in years. Of course, he'd returned her worried glance with a reassuring smile of his own. Mirana was a heavy sleeper who rarely woke during the night, and as long as she was unaware of his disturbing dreams he felt no reason to make her unnecessarily concerned by adding to her list of worries, knowing that she wouldn't press him for details until he was good and ready to share them.

He rolled onto his right side, looking out the large window that overlooked the gardens and the fountain that seemed to emit a silver aura in the milky starlight. Was it possible that the necklace was cursed? Considering Iracebeth's lack of skill in magic, he doubted it. After all, why would she place a curse on something she wore every day? More importantly, why had she clung to the pendant until her dying day if Mirana was nothing more than an enemy to her? Perhaps the necklace wasn't significant at all. Perhaps Iracebeth's ghost was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, a dream and nothing more. After all, she had yet to carry out any of her threats…but for how long?

He felt movement on the other side of the bed and rolled back over to his left. Whimpering in her sleep, Mirana squirmed uncomfortably beneath the sheets, her brows knit with worry. Stayne frowned. It wasn't like her to move so much in her sleep. Finding her hand, he squeezed it gently, instantly calming whatever dreams had been plaguing her sleep. He sighed again and looked at the grandfather clock. 2am. Just another five hours to go…Perhaps tomorrow he'd finally get some sleep, but for tonight, he was content just to lie awake and hold his wife's hand, watching the gentle rise and fall of her chest until the first rays of dawn broke over the horizon.

He was standing in front of their bedroom mirror fastening his cloak when out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. Knowing that travel by looking-glass was no longer feasible after Alice's defeat of the sorceress, he immediately turned to look behind him but saw no one.

"Chessur? Chess, if you are in this room, show yourself NOW!"

He glanced around, searching for the cat's characteristic grin, but there was no sign of the insufferable feline. Shaking his head, he turned back to the mirror, but when he moved to straighten his waistcoat, he nearly fell over in shock, for there, staring back at him was the face of the Red Queen. He took a hesitant step back.

"Y-you're not real. You can't be here." He shook his head. "You're dead."

The queen rolled her eyes. "So I've noticed."

"I must still be dreaming."

Unable to reach through the glass, she smacked the king's reflection in the face, sending the real Stayne reeling back in pain. "There, did you feel that?"

"Yes," growled.

"Good, then you're awake." She glared at him. "Two days, Stayne. I'm giving you two days to make your decision. If Alice isn't dead by tomorrow night, I'll see to it that no one in your family ever gets a moment's peace again!"

Stayne narrowed his eye. "It was YOU! You're the reason Mirana was upset last night!"

"Oh, believe me, Stayne, I can do much worse than that. Wait and see what happens tonight, then tell me you'll just sit by and watch them suffer! Get rid of Alice, and you'll never hear from me again. Spare her life, and I will destroy yours. Either way, I _will_ find someone to dispose of her, so really, you're just a minor detail in the plan…Remember, Stayne, the choice is yours…"

The creak of the bedroom door made him jump. Spinning around to face the door, he was surprised to see not the Red Queen but her sister. "Oh! Mirana," he put a hand to his chest. "You startled me."

"I was just coming to check on you. You were taking an awfully long time to get dressed. Who were you speaking to?"

"No one," he lied. "I just…I thought Chessur was playing another one of his pranks."

Mirana looked skeptical. "Alright…Well, come down to the dining hall when you're ready. Thackery has made brambleberry jam and scones, and Tarrant has prepared his special breakfast blend of tea. Poor dear, he's been working himself to death to keep from worrying about Alice. I know he'd rather be there with her, but for safety's sake I don't think anyone should be going out to visit her. It might draw unwanted attention."

Stayne shifted uncomfortably. "You go on ahead. I'll be down in a moment." He gave her a quick kiss before she turned and headed back down the stairs. Turning back to the mirror, he half expected to see Iracebeth, but only his own reflection stared back at him. Giving his waistcoat a final tug, he shook his head and prepared to descend the stairwell. "Keep this up for too long and they'll be calling _me_ mad! I swear, if I survive this, I will _never_ make fun of Hightopp again!"

"You wished to speak with me, Your Majesty?"

Stayne looked up from the stack of papers he'd been sifting through. "No need to be so formal, Hightopp. I know there are a million other names you'd rather call me, though I'd prefer you don't say any of them in front of my daughter."

His tone was joking, but his words were not. It had taken the Hatter quite some time to get used to the idea of having to treat his former enemy with the same loyalty and respect that he showed Mirana, but gradually the two men had come to an uneasy mutual understanding based primarily on their wives' insistence that they learn to get along and Violet's ability to melt away any ill feelings that remained between them. In short, they had learned to tolerate one another for the sake of their families, but when left alone with each other, things were always still a bit tense.

The Hatter's lips were in a firm line. "Whether I like it or not, you are Underland's rightful king. You are Mirana's husband and Alice's friend, and as such I am obliged to respect you. I owe you Alice's life and quite possibly my own. For that, I am grateful."

"As I owe you for saving Mirana on Horevendush Day."

"Ah dinnae save 'er fer ye." The Hatter's eyes were slowly turning a dangerous gold that bordered on orange.

"I know. But you did save her. And that's what matters to me." [3]

Tarrant slammed his fist down on the desk. "Did ye call me 'ere fer a reason, or did ye jes want tah torment me wit' the past?"

When Stayne did not respond, he closed his eyes, gripping the desk so hard his fingernails dug into the wood. He forced himself to take few shaky, calming breaths. He would not lose himself to the madness now and break their alliance, however flimsy it may have been. When he looked back up his eyes were green again, though they still bordered on yellow.

"I'm sorry," he said. "Ever since Absolem showed us the oraculum I've been worried sick about Alice. I'm still…a bit on edge."

Stayne nodded. "Understandably so."

"So…what was it you wished to speak with me about?"

"I…I need your advice."

Tarrant frowned. "Advice? What sort of advice? If you want my opinion about a hat you're considering, I could certainly be of assistance, but as to any other sort of advising, I'm afraid I won't be much help."

The king stood, sliding his chair back beneath the desk, and motioned for them to walk toward the door. "Actually, I believe you might be quite helpful, assuming you are willing to discuss the subject matter."

"Which is…?"

Stayne paused in his walk down the corridor and turned to face the Hatter. "How did you know when you were…going mad? What was it like?"

Tarrant sighed. "Violet hasn't been in the workshop again, if that's what you're wondering. I've been in there nearly every waking hour since Alice was sent off, and she hasn't come in even once. She's a good lass…"

"This isn't about Violet, Hightopp!"

"Then, who…?" It took a few moments for the Hatter to process his words, but when he finally understood he burst into a fit of giggles and snorts.

Stayne frowned. "It's NOT funny, Tarrant! I'm not used it like you are, and to be perfectly honest, it's a bit unsettling!"

"I'm sorry," he chuckled, "but I never thought I'd see the day that _you'd_ admit being mad, much less ask me for advice about it!"

"Well, I am asking now."

As they continued along the hall toward Stayne's personal study, the Hatter shook his head, suddenly serious. "Stayne, believe me, I have been mad for the majority of my life, though the 'badness' only came later…You are NOT mad, nor will you ever be. What in Underland could possibly make you think otherwise?"

"Lately I've been experiencing some rather disturbing dreams – nightmares, if you will. A…a person…from my past seems to be…haunting me, threatening me." Stayne thought it would be best not to mention just exactly _who _was haunting him or what she wanted. "And I can't shake the feeling that my family may be in danger. I didn't think much of it until this morning."

"What happened this morning?"

They entered the study where Stayne took a seat and offered the Hatter a chair. "Before I came down for breakfast, I thought I saw something…Do…do you ever see things that aren't there or…or hear voices?"

The Hatter looked a bit worried. Perhaps Stayne _was_ going mad, after all. "Yes…"

"How do you cope with that? How do you make them go away?"

Tarrant gave a half-hearted laugh. "If I knew the answer to that, I'd have done it a long time ago."

Stayne looked distressed. "So…there is no cure, then?"

He shrugged sadly. "None that I know of. Have you told Mirana?"

The king shook his head. "I don't want to worry her. She's got enough to worry about without having to look after me."

Tarrant grinned. "Well, on the positive side, Alice says that all the best people in the world are mad!"

"I suppose that makes me a member of an elite club, eh, Hightopp?"

"Most certainly! I shall have to inform Alice the next time I see her…whenever that may be." His smile faded. "I know I shouldn't visit the cabin until the oraculum indicates that the danger has passed, but I miss her. I was thinking of visiting tomorrow evening after work." He looked up hesitantly, fearing the king's disapproval.

Stayne rolled his eye. "For goodness' sake, Tarrant, she's your wife! You don't need my permission to visit her."

"Thank you," he said sincerely. "You have no idea how much she means to me. I know she's capable of defending herself, but I hate not being able to be there with her."

Stayne looked down guiltily. "I know that I would do anything to protect my family. I can't expect that you would do any less."

The Hatter nodded and stood to leave. "Well, I hope I've been at least somewhat helpful."

"You have been. Perhaps more than you know."

"Well, I suppose I should get back to the workshop. Lots of orders, you know!" He turned to go out the door.

"Oh, Tarrant? One more question."

"Yes?"

"The…the voices…Do you…do you ever listen to them? Do you ever do what they tell you to do?"

The Hatter looked thoughtful. "Depends on who the voice belongs to. Mostly I just listen to One Voice." Smiling, he lifted his right index finger and pointed upward. "He's the One you should be asking for advice, not a mercury-addled old fool like me. Sometimes He's hard to hear over all the other voices, but He's there."

"Thank you, Tarrant…I'll keep that in mind."

Once again, the Hatter started to leave, but suddenly poked his head back around the door, as if he'd forgotten to mention something. There was a sly grin on his face. "Oh, and by the way, my fellow partners in the 'Trio of Lunatics,' as you call it, will be most interested to learn that we have a new member. Would you like to inform them, or should I?"

Stayne sighed and shook his head, looking slightly amused. "Shut up, Hightopp."

Mirana and Stayne were just getting ready for bed when a sudden, ear-piercing scream coming from the direction of their daughter's room sent them running down the halls at break-neck speed.

Mirana was the first to get there. "Violet? Violet, darling, what's wrong?"

The trembling girl jumped out of bed and ran to her mother, throwing her arms around the queen's legs and collapsing into a fit of sobs. Mirana knelt down, to pick up her daughter, holding her close while the girl cried into her shoulder.

Stayne came sprinting in a few seconds later. He had a sinking feeling he knew what had caused his daughter such distress but decided not to voice his thoughts. He reached out to brush the tears from her face. "Violet, dear, did you have a bad dream."

She nodded. "There was a scary lady…and people were dying…and I saw you standing there, so I thought everything would be okay. But you didn't do anything, Daddy…You didn't help them…Why didn't you save them, Daddy?" she cried. "Why didn't you help?"

Though Stayne had not shared his dreams with Mirana, it didn't take long for her to figure out who the "scary lady" in their daughter's dream was. They shared a knowing glance.

It was Mirana who finally answered, though pained by the thought that woman responsible for terrifying her child was, in fact, her own sister. "Violet, sweetheart, it was just a dream. The scary lady can't hurt you."

Stayne wasn't certain he agreed with his wife on that point but decided not to voice his thoughts aloud.

"But why didn't Daddy do something?" She turned to her father. "Why did you let all those people die?"

This time, Stayne answered, for he could not deny what he had done. Taking his daughter in his arms, he allowed a single tear of his own to slip free. "I don't know, darling. I don't know."

Stayne lie awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling. He had already counted and re counted the marble bricks that formed the roof at least a dozen times, yet very little time had passed since he crawled beneath the covers. Iracebeth's warning and Tarrant's advice kept running through his mind. How could he possibly get any sleep at all with such heavy thoughts weighing down upon him?

Could he honestly live with himself if he killed Alice and her unborn child? Had it not been for Alice, he might never have realized that love is greater than fear, might never have gotten the opportunity to resurrect his love for Mirana. And even if he could learn to live with himself after committing such a crime, he knew for certain that Tarrant would never forgive him. Whatever was left of the madman's sanity would surely shatter. He had seen the look in the Hatter's eyes when he believed Alice to be dead after the battle with Alicia, had watched the man retreat within himself to a place so deep and dark he feared he might never see the light of day again. Once, many years ago, when a nineteen year-old Alice had defeated the jabberwocky, the Hatter had had a chance to avenge his clan, but something about seeing Alice had stopped him from taking off the knave's head. Were he to be responsible for Alice's death, he knew that such mercy would not likely be shown a second time, and in all honesty, he would not blame Tarrant in the least.

And yet, could he be a good father if he allowed Iracebeth to destroy the hearts and minds of his wife and daughter? How could he possibly be a good king, a protector of Underland, if he could not even protect his own family? But how could he fight an enemy he could not see? How could he defeat someone who was already dead?

Stayne pinched the bridge of his nose. He felt a massive headache coming on. Though he dreaded the dreams he knew were certain to come, perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. He attempted to sleep, but just as he was nodding off, he felt the weight on the bed shift and immediately opened his eye.

Mirana was tossing and turning, writhing beneath the sheets in a feverish, dreamlike state. Beads of sweat pooled on her forehead and tears were streaming down her cheeks. When he finally managed to shake her awake, she was too upset to speak, simply leaning into his chest and sobbing for what felt like hours. He spent the rest of the night with his arms around his wife, rocking her gently and letting her tears soak through his shirt.

_Iracebeth, you may think you've won, but you're wrong. I will not let you destroy this family that I love. I have made my decision._

[1] The teddy bear wasn't really invented until the early 1900s when it came into fashion after U.S. President Theodore "Teddy" Roosevelt posed for a picture with a bear cub. So, yes it's an anachronism. No, I don't care. :P

[2] Yep. This is definitely a reference to _The Lion King_.

[3] It's been a while since I read any of the _Twilight_ books, but I think there's a scene similar to this in one of the books where Edward thanks Jacob for saving Bella, though of course, Jacob's motive was not to help Edward.


	4. The Red Flower Blooms

**Chapter Four: The Red Flower Blooms**

"What are you looking for, darling?"

Stayne looked up from the potions he'd been sorting through and saw his wife standing in the doorway. Though beautiful as always, she looked tired, as if all the life had been drained from her. "Mirana, do you have any sleeping potions?"

Mirana frowned. "No, but I can prepare some. Why do you need it?"

"None of us slept well last night, Mirana, and I've a feeling things may only get worse from here on out. I thought perhaps if we took a tonic it might help us get some rest," he lied.

"You've been having the nightmares, as well, haven't you?"

Stayne hesitated. "Yes…"

"I knew something was wrong…Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry, love."

The queen wrapped her arm around his own handicapped right arm and rested her head against his shoulder. She sighed. "If Iracebeth truly is haunting us, I don't think a sleeping potion will be enough to deter her." She gave a half-hearted laugh. "You know as well as I do that she can be quite stubborn when she has her mind set on something. I only wish I knew what she wants from us…"

"I've an idea of what she wants, but I'll be needing that tonic."

Mirana pulled back to look him in the eye. "Stayne, what's going on? Why can't you tell me?"

"Because I don't think you'll like my plan." He held her at arm's length, giving her right shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "I've had to make a difficult choice, and I need you to trust my decision even if you don't understand it."

Mirana smiled. "You made the right decision last time…I know you'll do it again." She frowned, then put a finger to her chin. "Now, where did I put those buttered fingers?"

Early that afternoon, Stayne snuck out of the castle and headed for the cabin in the woods. It was a quaint little house built of tumtum tree logs with a chimney made of stones from the river that passed through the Tulgey Wood and a roof of heavy oak beams covered in a thatch of reeds and soft moss. It was partially built into the side of a hill with a natural indention in the rock forming the back and one side of the house, making it difficult to see from the dirt road that ran nearly a mile to the north. The rest of the house was shielded from view by a thick grove of trees, and unless a traveler knew exactly where to look, he could easily pass by without ever seeing the cabin. [1] It had been built during the early part of Mirana's parents reign as a royal hideaway, a weekend retreat of sorts for the king and queen. To assure their privacy, the location of the retreat had been kept a secret from everyone but the ruling monarchs. Not even Mirana knew the house's location until her formal coronation as queen of Underland. Currently, only she, Stayne, Alice, and the Hatter knew the cabin's whereabouts.

Stayne brought his horse to a halt, sliding off the animal's back and instructing the black stallion to wait for him by the road. Taking care to see if anyone was following him, he took a quick glance behind him before disappearing into the trees. Doing his best to avoid the briars that grabbed at his long cloak, he slipped between the branches and came to an old oak that had been split down the middle in a lightning storm by the edge of a pond. He pulled an old dugout canoe from the brush at the base of the oak and carefully sat down in it, pushing off from the shore with a crudely carved paddle. Though unable to row due to his handicap, he used the oar like a pole, pushing off against shallow, weedy bottom every few feet until he was across. Upon reaching the other side of the pond, he tied the boat to a sapling and walked up to the door, carrying a bag of assorted items he'd brought with him. Giving the appropriate pattern of knocks to indicate he was friend, he waited for Alice to open the door.

"Stayne! What are you doing here? Is it time for me to return to the castle? Has the danger passed?"

"Not yet. I came give you a message."

Alice moved out of the doorway, inviting him inside and closing the door behind him. "Did Hatter send you? Is everything alright?"

"No. The Hatter doesn't know that I'm here. I came of my own accord. I know what the oraculum was predicting now, and I think we can avoid it. I don't have time to explain, but I came here to help." He pulled a vial of black liquid from his satchel and handed it to her. "Here, drink this."

Alice rolled the glass tube between her index finger and her thumb, examining the contents curiously. "What is it?"

He shrugged. "One of Mirana's potions. It will protect you."

Alice uncorked the lid and lifted the vial to her lips. She hesitated, and for a moment he worried that she'd recognized the drug. "This won't harm the baby, will it?"

"No. It should be fine."

She nodded. "Alright, then." With a final grimace, Alice tilted back her head and swallowed the contents of the vial. Immediately, she felt her legs start to give way and her vision began to blur. She reached for the corner of the table, stumbling to keep from falling over. She looked up at him, desperate and confused. "Stayne…what…why?..."

"Under certain circumstances, vice may be dignified." [2]

The look of betrayal on her face was almost more than he could bear. "You…you poisoned me…

He grabbed her arm to prevent her from falling and harming the baby. "I'm sorry, Alice, but this is for your own good."

Alice tried to break out of his iron grip. "What are you doing? LET ME GO!"

In her struggle to get free, she staggered backwards, slamming the back of her head against the table and dropping the vial, which shattered into a thousand tiny shards of glass. Stayne felt her arm go limp within his grasp and gently lowered her to the floor. Standing, he nudged her with his boot to make sure that she was out. He'd given her a rather large dose of the sleeping draught, and its effect was near instantaneous. If he had estimated the dosage correctly, it would likely keep her in a very deep sleep for two or three days before wearing off, giving him enough time to convince Iracebeth of her death. He considered picking her up and putting her in a more comfortable position on the bed or tending to the gash on her head, which was quickly forming a pool of blood on the floor around her, but decided against it, believing that her supposed death would appear more realistic if he left her where she was. Knowing that the Hatter would soon be arriving, he quickly swept up and disposed of the shattered vial, removing any evidence of his presence, then headed for the door. He was in such a hurry to leave that he didn't notice the glowing embers in the fireplace. As he closed the door behind him, the breeze lifted a scrap of paper from the table onto the hearth. And the Red Flower of death began to bloom. [3]

As he traveled back across the pond, Stayne couldn't help but feel as though he were being watched. Nervously, he wondered whether the Hatter might have arrived earlier than he'd expected and witnessed the entire ordeal. If that were the case, he would certainly have some explaining to do if he wanted to keep his head! Glancing around at the surrounding wood, he looked for any sign of movement, any snatch of color among the dark trees, but the forest was as silent and as still as the grave. He felt a strange chill slither down his spine, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. Warily, he hopped out of the canoe and slipped it back into the bushes.

"You did well, Stayne."

The voice of the deceased queen made him jump. He turned frantically left, then right, expecting her to emerge from the dense, tangled undergrowth at any moment.

"Down here, you idiot!"

Stumbling backwards, he tripped and landed in the edge of the pond where he was surprised to see Iracebeth staring back at him from the water's depths.

The queen smirked. "Still as graceful as ever, I see."

"Hello, Iracebeth," he grumbled as he stood.

"Did you miss me?"

He glared. "Not in the least."

The reflection put her hands on her hips. "Hmmph! Well, at least you finally came to your senses! I didn't think you had it in you. Of course, I had hoped for something a bit more…bloody…I should have known that of all the possible methods to kill her, you'd choose something _humane_!" she spat. "But you did get the job done…Didn't it feel good to have power again? Didn't it feel good to get revenge?"

"The revenge was yours, not mine! I have betrayed my friends and lied to my family to appease your unquenchable thirst for vengeance. No more!"

"Miwana can't love you the way I did. What we had was special."

"What we had was NOTHING," he snarled. "You have never loved anyone but yourself! I have paid my debt to you with the blood of a friend. I owe you no more for the life that I took from you, and I would have you swear to me that you will _never_ come near me or my loved ones again."

Iracebeth glared.

"SWEAR IT!"

Her mouth was a tight line. "I give you my word that I will no longer torment your family. From this day forward you will never see me again." And with that, she disappeared just as quickly as she had come.

After a long day at the workshop, Tarrant headed down to the royal stables. Though he'd barely gotten any sleep for the past week, there was a smile on his face and a spring in his step. He was finally going to see Alice again! It had only been a few days, and yet he'd become so accustomed to having her by his side that it felt like an eternity. Thankfully, so far, the oraculum's prediction had not come true, and he was beginning to think that perhaps the crisis had been averted. Saddling a gentle chestnut mare known as "Hazel," he noticed that the king's dark steed was conspicuously absent. Come to think of it, he had not seen Stayne all afternoon…And hadn't Mirana stopped by to inquire about her husband's whereabouts? He frowned, wondering what would have caused the former knave to take off on such short notice.

"Hazel, have you any idea where the king and Charger were headed?"

The mare shook her auburn mane, answering in a soft whicker. "I'm afraid not. They left in quite a hurry. I don't think even Charger knew where they were going."

"Did you, by chance, overhear any of their conversation? Did they take anything with them?"

"The king took only his satchel. I didn't see its contents, but it smelled as though he was carrying one of the queen's potions." She snorted anxiously. "Something seemed…wrong.."

Tarrant cocked his head. "Wrong? How so?"

"His scent was strange, and he seemed ill at ease. It made me nervous…"

He pursed his lips. "Hmm…Did you happen to see which direction they headed?"

Hazel pointed her nose toward the eastern entrance of the barn. "They left out that gate toward the Tulgey Wood, if I'm not mistaken. Perhaps they were going to check up on Alice, as well."

The Hatter knit his brows. "Yes…perhaps so…" He felt a sinking within his chest. If Stayne had left the castle to check on Alice without bothering to inform anyone of his whereabouts, it must certainly have been an emergency. After all, the king was aware of his plans to go to the cabin the same afternoon. Why leave in such a hurry unless the visit could not wait? Perhaps the oraculum had revealed some new, gruesome details of Alice's demise. He shuddered, trying desperately not to let his mercury-saturated mind dwell on the foreboding prediction of the blood-drenched scroll. Swallowing back his fear, he mounted the horse in one swift, fluid motion, and turned her to face the eastern gate.

"To the Tulgey Wood, Hazel! Alice may be in trouble!" His eyes glowed a determined gold as they galloped across the field. "Dinnae worry, mah Alice," he whispered. "Ah'm on mah way."

Galloping through the woods at breakneck speed, Tarrant didn't even bother to slow his mount as they came to edge of the forest, barreling down the dirt path as quickly as the mare's legs would carry her. Tarrant had purposefully chosen Hazel not only because of her calm demeanor and kind spirit but because she was the swiftest, most agile horse within the stable. Though too small to ever pull a carriage or carry an armor-laden soldier, her small size and slender, lightweight build made her perfect for running errands. Her hooves glided over the earth, barely touching the ground and leaving a trail of dust in their wake.

As they came to the bend in the road nearest the cabin, they slowed. Generally, this was the point where the rider would dismount, taking the final mile of the journey on foot both to maintain the secrecy of the hideaway and to make things simpler for the horses, who couldn't easily pass through the tightly packed trees and brushy undergrowth. Suddenly, Hazel came to an abrupt halt, ears perked up at attention. She snorted slightly and lifted her nose to the wind, taking a few hesitant steps back.

The Hatter frowned, looking down at the mare. "What is it?"

"Smoke…"

Tarrant slid off the horse and tried to follow her gaze to the sky. "I don't see any – "

He stopped short, words caught in his throat as he tried to process the scene before him. From the tops of the trees, an angry black cloud of smoke billowed, poisoning the air with its acrid stench and spewing a shower of sparks into the forest, setting the canopy aglow. For a moment he could not move, could not think, paralyzed in fear by the flood of memories that suddenly came rushing back. For many years after the destruction of Hightopp Village, he had refused to have a fire in his room even on the coldest of winter nights, had taken his tea cold to avoid lighting a fire to heat the water. The flames brought back too many horrible thoughts, too much pain – memories of screaming, of death, of family members and friends reduced to ashes before his very eyes. And then he would slip into the badness, becoming the dangerous Outlandish warrior, raving and screaming and trying desperately to silence the voices within his mind. Over time, he had finally been able to face his phobia and gradually, he had lost his fear of fire…or so he'd thought. But this was different. This was his worst nightmares come to life. This was the choking scent of wood smoke on the breeze, the sound of the crackling flames devouring the trees, the stifling heat of a thousand furnaces engulfing the forest before him. And somewhere, in the middle of all those flames, was his Alice.

Shaking from head to toe, he stumbled backwards, trying to calm his rapid breaths, though he knew it would do no good. His vision started to fade, and he could feel himself slipping into a dizzying madness unlike anything he'd ever experienced before, a complete mental shutdown. Nearly in tears with fright, he felt his stomach lurch, and before he could stop himself, he was on his knees, vomiting into the brush and crying in short, gasping sobs. The voices were screaming and his head was pounding, and he covered his ears with his hands. "Make it stop! Make it stop!" he sobbed. "Please, PLEASE! MAKE IT STOP!"

And suddenly he felt the soft warmth of a horse's muzzle nuzzling his cheek, her velvety nose brushing away the hot tears that stained his pallid skin. But her comforting presence only drew forth more tears, for he had, quite literally, been frightened out of his mind. He lifted a trembling hand to stroke her silky neck in thanks, though he couldn't yet find the words to speak.

"Tarrant, my old friend," the horse softly nickered, "you must go after her. Alice is in grave danger."

He shook his head fiercely, eyes wide with terror. "Nae, nae! Ah cannae! Please, dinnae make me gae in there!"

The dark, matronly eyes of the mare looked down on him with compassion. "Tarrant, she won't make it out alive if you don't do something soon!"

"Ah cannae," he sobbed. "Ah dinnae want 'er tah die, but Ah cannae!"

The horse nuzzled his shoulder gently. "You've blamed yourself for years over not being able to save your family from that fire on the Horevendush Day when I was just a filly. If you don't even try to rescue Alice, you will regret it for the rest of your life, and I will not see you suffer through such needless pain again." Giving his back a nudge, she tried to make him stand. "Come, get up. I will go with you, but we must hurry."

Leaning on the mare for support, he finally managed to balance on his wobbly legs and, with a great deal of nudging from Hazel, got onto her back, gripping the reins as though his life depended on it. Swallowing back the mortifying fear that gripped his chest, he drew a shaky breath. "Alrigh'. Le's go."

Hazel turned to glance back at him, her calm, deep brown eyes soothing his frazzled nerves. "Hold on tightly, my friend."

Backing up a few steps to get a running start, the mare shot forth with the speed of a racehorse, leaping over the roadside brush and plunging into the heart of the forest. Nimbly dodging trees, she zigzagged between the trunks, dashing through the woods faster than she'd ever run before, heading for the source of the flames and leaving a trail of trampled undergrowth in her wake. Ignoring the briars that bit into her skin, she pushed on, soaring over fallen logs and rocky gullies as if she could fly. Reaching the edge of the pond, she hardly slowed down, plowing through the water with great splashes of her hooves until she reached the burning cabin. Tarrant numbly slid off her back and stared into the flames. He hesitated for a moment and then, with a sudden surge of muchness, charged into the fire.

The moment he ended his conversation with Iracebeth, Stayne fled the woods as quickly as possible, knowing that Tarrant would be hot on his trail. Finding Charger where he had last left the dark stallion, he leapt onto the horse's back and took off for the castle, wisely choosing to take a less-traveled path back so as to avoid any potential run-in with the Hatter, but no sooner had he reached the edge of the woods than he noticed a large, black cloud of smoke rising from the forest like a bad omen on the horizon. Turning his horse sharply, he urged the steed into a gallop, cantering toward the cabin at full speed. Even at such a fast pace, however, he doubted he would make it in time. In her present condition, she wouldn't last very long once the roof started to cave in, and the flames were already leaping into the sky. All he could do was hope and pray that Tarrant would never have to witness the terrible scene unfolding before him.

[1] My design for the hidden cabin was based very loosely off of the shelter built by Crusoe in the novel _Robinson Crusoe._

[2] This comes from a quote in Shakespeare's _Romeo & Juliet_. The quote is as follows: "Virtue itself turns vice, being misapplied, and vice sometimes by action dignified." In this particular instance, Stayne is saying that his trickery was a necessary evil in order for him to save Alice and protect his family from Iracebeth. The sleeping potion he gives her is also a nod to _Romeo and Juliet_ in which Juliet takes a potion that makes her go into a deep coma-like sleep, causing Romeo to believe that she is dead. Stayne is basically trying to use the same concept to make Iracebeth believe that he has killed Alice, but he can't tell anyone what he's up to because he needs everyone else to believe that she is dead to make things look convincing.

[3] In Kipling's _The Jungle Book,_ the animals refer to fire as "the red flower." Since Iracebeth, the Red Queen, is ultimately behind all of this, I thought the reference was appropriate.


	5. Into the Flames

**Chapter Five: Into the Flames**

Finding the door either locked or jammed, Tarrant slammed his fists against the wood, hoping that Alice could hear him. "Alice? ALICE? Can ye hear me, lass?"

When he received no response, he ran frantically over to the nearest window and kicked in the glass. Ignoring the stinging sensation and blood running down his leg, he climbed in through the window, which opened up into the cabin's small bedroom, but found no trace of Alice. As of yet, the room's interior had been relatively untouched by the flames, having been sealed off from the rest of the fire by a closed door beneath which gray clouds of smoke seeped into the room, staining the air with a murky sepia tone. Flinging the door open, he was immediately greeted with a face full of smoke so thick that he could just barely make out what was two or three feet in front of him illuminated by the orange-red glow of the fire. Choking on the stinging, smothering air, he forced himself to step further into the room, calling out for Alice before falling into a violent fit of coughing. His head was spinning from the mercury and the swirling, acrid smoke, and it was all he could do to keep from passing out. Still, he forced himself to walk further in, doing his best to blink back the tears that insisted on coming, though whether they were from the stinging sensation of the smoke in his face or his mind-numbing fear, he wasn't certain.

"ALICE? ALICE? WHERE ARE YE?" Stumbling into the corner of a small table, he tripped over something lying in the floor. Looking down at his feet to see what had nearly caused him to fall, he felt a chill snake its way down his spine, despite the smothering heat, for there, on the floor was Alice, lying unconscious in a pool of dried blood, hair matted and red from the liquid that had escaped a large gash on the back of her head. Whoever had been here must have attacked her and left her for dead, setting the building on fire to eliminate any evidence against him and ensure that she was gone. He had seen her like this only once before, and at that time, he'd believed her to be dead. Had he come too late, he wondered? Falling to his knees on the floor beside her, he examined her more closely, looking for a sign of life. If she was breathing, it was too shallow for him to tell. If her heart was beating, it wasn't beating hard enough for him to feel it.

"Alice," he whispered hoarsely. "Alice, please…please get up." He gently shook her shoulders. "Alice, _please_, speak to me!" He could feel the madness rising. There was a tremble in his voice. "Alice, Ah ken ye can hear me, so ANSWER ME, NAUW!"

Breaking down, he gave an almost animalistic howl of pain as he lifted her head into his lap, running his fingers through her sticky, blood-drenched hair and allowing the heart-wrenching sobs to wrack his frame. He cared not how long he stayed there. He could burn, for all he cared. Alice was gone, and he simply didn't have the will or the strength to leave her.

"Alice," he croaked, "Alice, Ah'm sae sorry Ah couldnae save ye an' our bairn. Please fergive meh, Alice. Fergive meh."

So caught up in his sorrow was he that he didn't notice that another figure had entered the room until he heard a voice rising over the roar and crackle of the flames.

"Hightopp, get out of here, now! The roof is coming down!"

Though he couldn't make out the visitor's face veiled by the thick shroud of smoke, the Hatter could barely see the silhouette of a man walking toward him. He didn't have to see his features to know who it was. He'd recognized the voice instantly. In a flash, he was up from the floor and had the intruder pinned against the wall with his hand clamped around the man's throat. There was a murderous rage in his eyes.

"YEW! Ye were th' only one who knew 'ow tah find this place besides Mirana and meself. Ye're the only one Alice would 'ave trusted enough tah let inside. HOW COULD YE, YE COWARDLY KNAVE?" With the madness taking hold, he had nearly five times the strength of an average man. His grip on the king's throat tightened.

"Tarrant," he choked, "listen to me."

There was a madness in his eyes like nothing Stayne had ever seen before, red with the fires of hatred and bright with unshed tears. "Alice _trusted_ ye. _Ah_ trusted ye! Ah thought ye were a changed man, Stayne! What 'as she e'er done tah ye tah deserve this?"

"I'm…sorry…Tarrant," he wheezed.

"NAE! YE'RE NAE SORRY!" His voice lowered dangerously. "Nae sorry enough." He increased the pressure on Stayne's throat, preparing to squeeze the life out of him. He could see the fear in his opponent's eye, could tell that he would soon be slipping into the darkness of oblivion. But then he stopped. Murderer or not, Stayne was a husband and a father. To take him away from Mirana and Violet would only put them through the pain that he was now suffering over the loss of Alice, and they did not deserve such heartbreak. He would not make a child grow up without a father because of his selfish desire for revenge. He would not continue the cycle of hatred and vengeance. He would not stoop to that level. Slowly, he released his adversary, though he was still shaking with rage. "Ah willnae die with yer blood on mah hands. Get auwt."

He turned away, ashamed for his enemy to see the angry tears that had returned. "Why?" he wept. "Why did ye take 'er from meh?"

Coughing as he returned from the edges of unconsciousness, Stayne rubbed his neck. He didn't have time to explain the details to the Hatter, but he needed to get all three of them out quickly. He took a step toward Tarrant.

"Leave me," he whispered.

"Hightopp…"

He whirled around. "LEAVE ME!"

There was the sound of splintering wood and groaning timber from above.

"Hightopp, MOVE!" Shoving the madman out of the way, he went down, the heavy impact of the support beam knocking him to the ground with a sickening crunch. He tried to get up but found that his legs were pinned to the ground by a rafter too large for an average man to lift alone.

The Hatter was staring in disbelief. How could the man who had murdered his wife now suddenly seem so anxious to save his life?

Resigning himself to his fate, he supposed now was as good of a time as any to tell Tarrant the truth. Grimacing in pain, he propped himself up on his arms. "Take Alice and get out while there's still time," he grunted.

The Hatter's eyes were a confused swirl of colors. He shook his head. "I don't understand…"

"She's not dead, Hightopp." He clenched his teeth against the searing pain that shot up his legs and tried to offer the Hatter a joking smile. "Did you…did you really think I would to try to kill Alice? For goodness' sake, Hightopp, don't you have any faith in my character?"

"But…but she's not breathing. She has no pulse…"

"She does," he groaned. "It's just not very noticeable. I gave her a sleeping draught. I had to restrain her so she wouldn't fall and harm the baby. She hit her head on the table struggling to get away."

The Hatter's mind was reeling. Was it possible that she was still alive? He was afraid to get his hopes up yet. "A sleeping potion? But why – "

"Because I needed her to believe that Alice was dead."

"Who?"

Stayne looked up, almost ashamed to meet the eyes of the man whose sanity he'd destroyed. "The…the voices…Iracebeth's ghost…She threatened my family. I was going to tell you about Alice later, but I needed you to behave in a way that would convince her Alice was gone so she would leave my family alone. I'm sorry I used you."

Tarrant's brows shot up. "Then…then the fire…"

"Was never a part of my plan. Why do you think I came back?"

Another beam came crashing down behind them, making the Hatter jump. The roof would soon cave in, and the flames were spreading fast

"Take Alice and go!"

The Hatter hesitated, glancing from his wife Stayne, then back again. He knew he wouldn't have time to save them both.

Stayne's shouting interrupted his thoughts. "GO, NOW!"

Tarrant lifted his wife's limp body from the ground, cradling her against his chest and heading for the window through which he'd come in. He turned briefly to glance back over his shoulder at the man he finally realized was a true friend. "I'll come back for you."

"Don't be a fool, Hightopp," he panted. "You and I both know the roof will be down by then."

The Hatter's eyes glowed with determination. "Ah'll come back fer ye, AH WILL!"  
>The searing heat from the encroaching flames combined with the shooting pain in his legs was almost unbearable, but he managed to speak. "You're…you're a good man, Hightopp."<p>

Tarrant offered a small, apologetic smile. There were tears in his eyes. "So are yew, Yer Majesty."

Stayne watched as the man left, fading into the smoky orange haze until he finally disappeared altogether. He wondered what his wife would say when she found out that he was dead. He wondered what his little girl would do without a father. He wondered whether Alice would ever forgive him when she woke up, if he'd be remembered as a murderer or a martyr. He wondered whether Tarrant's fractured mind would ever get over another traumatic blow like this, if he'd blame himself for his death. He wondered what the Hightopps' child would be like, if he or she would get along well with Violet.

The past four years of his life had been more incredible, more abundant in love and joy than he'd ever imagined possible for a man with his past. He had experienced a full life, he supposed, even if it had only been for a few years. He had many regrets, but he had many triumphs, as well. Today he had succeeded in saving his wife and daughter as well as his closest friends.

Tarrant's parting words echoed in his mind. He was _not_ a good man, of that much he was certain, but he was becoming a better man every day. Tarrant hadn't said as much, but he knew that the Hatter's heartfelt goodbye was his way of admitting that the past between them had been fully erased.

"Lord, remember me when You come into Your kingdom." [1]

Knowing that he had been forgiven, he closed his eye and awaited his fate unafraid.

[1] This quote is from Luke 23:42. In the passage, two men who were thieves were hung on crosses beside Jesus. One man mocked Him, but the other thief accepted his fate as a just punishment for his sins, asking Jesus to forgive him. The Lord's response was "Most assuredly, I a say to you, today you will be with Me in Paradise." The scene in my story is based on/inspired by a very similar scene from my good friend KatherineNotGreat's Peter Pan story "A Long Kiss Goodnight."


	6. Fever

**Chapter Six: Fever**

Staggering out of the burning building, the Hatter stumbled to the edge of the pond where Hazel and Charger were waiting. Setting Alice down, he collapsed into a fit of coughing, trying to rid his lungs of the smoke-filled air that burned his nose and stung his throat. When he was finally able to breathe again, he looked up at the horses.

Charger stared down at him with worried coal-black eyes. "Where is my Master?"

"Still inside," he panted. He stood, a look of resolve burning in his golden eyes. "Take care of Alice, Ah'm gaein' back in."

"Tarrant you'll get yourself killed if you go back in there now!" Hazel whinnied.

"An' 'e will be killed if Ah dinnae!" He shook his head. "Ah'll nae leave a man tah die."

Hazel nickered sadly. "I see you've found your muchness, Tarrant. She nuzzled his shoulder lovingly. Be careful, my friend."

Having resigned himself to the belief that death was inevitable, Stayne was surprised to hear the sound of footsteps. He looked up to see the Hatter running toward him.

"Hightopp, you idiot, what are you doing? I told you to get out!"

"An' Ah gave ye mah word Ah'd come back!" Grabbing the end of the fallen support beam, he strained to lift it.

"Give it up, Tarrant! You can't save us both. You have a wife with a child on the way. She needs you!"

The Hatter grit his teeth and tried harder to lift the wooden shaft. "An' ye 'ave a wife an' a daughter who need yew!"

Panting, he released the beam and glanced around. Running to the side of the blazing hearth, he grabbed a metal poker, hissing in pain and dropping the object as the hot metal touched his skin. He looked down at his hand, which was already showing some nasty blisters from the heat despite the fabric that covered his palm. Strengthening his resolve, he forced himself to pick up the poker yet again and took it over to Stayne where he lodged it beneath the fallen support beam like a lever. Chunks of the flaming thatched roof were already beginning to fall around them in large heaps.

"Hightopp, you'll NEVER move that board alone!"

"Mebbe not, but we can lift it between the twine o' us." He motioned for Stayne to take the lever, then ran back to the end of the log. "Alrigh'. On three. One. Two. THREE!"

With Stayne pulling down on the lever with all his might and the Hatter pushing up against the end of the beam, the rafter trembled, then slowly began to move upward. With a final surge of strength and determination that only a madman could possess, Tarrant lifted one end of the beam high over his head and threw it to the side where it slammed into another window, shattering the glass. Seeing their chance for escape, he ran to his fallen companion's side.

"Can ye stand?"

Stayne braced his arms against the floor and tried to push himself to his feet, but the moment he tried to move his legs, he crumpled, howling with agonizing pain.

The Hatter glanced up. The other support beams were burning thin. It was only a matter of minutes before the entire roof would cave in. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to carry Stayne the way he had Alice, he wondered how he could possibly get them out in time when a sudden thought came into his mind.

"Roll onto yer back," he ordered.

Still reeling in pain, Stayne looked confused. "How is that going to help – "

"JES DO IT!"

Fighting the urge to scream, the former knave forced himself to flip over. The Hatter responded immediately, grabbing the king beneath the arms and dragging him to the broken window over smoldering piles of thatch and shards of broken glass. Stepping out, he turned back to Stayne and began pulling him through the opening, dragging him over the sharp edges of the glass that tore through his clothing, staining the back of his dark shirt a deep purplish red and slicing his fractured legs in several locations. The Hatter paused to take a breath, panting from the exertion of energy required to move the deadweight of a body nearly twice as heavy as his wife. Giving one last tug, Tarrant stumbled backwards as Stayne slipped free from the window. Panting heavily, the two men stared in awe as only seconds later the roof gave an unearthly groan and came crashing down, folding in upon itself like a poorly built house of cards.

The Hatter looked down at his hands, which were trembling like leaves in the wind, though whether from the mercury poisoning or the adrenaline rush he'd experienced he didn't know. Glancing over at place where his pregnant wife lay, unconscious but still alive, he wept with the joy of knowing that they had all escaped the flames relatively unscathed. He had done for his wife and unborn child what he hadn't been able to do for the Hightopp clan all those years ago.

Stayne was still in shock, pondering the thought that his former enemy, whom even after their reconciliation he had never really considered a close friend, had just saved his life. His face was nearly as pale as Tarrant's as he stared at the smoking ruins of the cottage.

"Thank you, Hightopp," he whispered hoarsely.

Alice took a sip of her husband's famous breakfast tea, quietly pondering all the information she'd just been told. It had been three days since the fire, and she had just awakened from the sleeping draught that morning. "It's strange," she commented, staring down at the dark liquid in her cup. "I don't remember any of it. I feel as though I've missed so much…like I've been away for quite some time."

Stayne, who was sitting in a wheelchair at the head of the table, stirred his tea absentmindedly. "Well, it was a rather…eventful day."

Alice glowered at him. "I can't believe you gave me a sleeping potion without telling me! I can't believe _I_ was stupid enough to drink something without knowing what it was! You could have hurt the baby!"

Stayne sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "For the thousandth time, Alice, I'm _sorry_. I didn't know what else to do."

"Ye did wha' ye had to." The Hatter, who had been silent nearly all morning, looked up from his barely touched breakfast. Talking about the fire and thinking of what could have happened had made him anxious. "Ye protected yer fam'ly an' helped me protect mine. Thank you."

"I believe that I'm the one who should be thanking you, Hightopp. I never would have gotten out of there if you hadn't been so stubborn in your attempt to do the right thing."

Alice sighed. "Well, I suppose since everyone got out alright, I shouldn't complain too much. But I find it odd that Iracebeth would give up so easily. What will happen when she realizes that I'm not dead? Who's to say that she will keep her promise? And even if she does, she only promised protection to _your_ family, not mine. What's stopping her from trying to come after me again?"

Mirana frowned. "I know my sister. It's unlikely she will go back on her word, but she _will _try to find a way around it. You're not out of the woods yet, Alice."

Alice looked concerned. "So, what do we do now?"

"I don't know." The queen's dark eyes filled with sympathy for her best friend. "I suppose we'll just have to wait and see what happens."

"Aaaarrrgh!"

Tarrant dropped the hat he'd been working on, bringing his hands up to cradle his throbbing head. Ever since the day of the fire, he'd been having the nightmares again. Running on very little sleep and worried sick about Alice, who was due to have the baby any day and still potentially at risk from Iracebeth's ghost, he'd barely let her out of his sight since she'd woken up, but the hat orders had begun to pile up and Alice had grown weary of his constant worrying, so today he'd finally gone back to work. Or at least, he'd planned to until the headaches had started.

It was a strange, dizzying sensation, a pulsating throb that sent a sharp, shooting pain through his head with every beat of his heart, and he had to sit down to keep from losing his balance. He sat with his head on his desk buried between his arms, trying to shut out any light that might further irritate his malady. Already he'd closed the curtains and put out the lamps, doing his best to work in the dim light but finding his attempts to be relatively unsuccessful. He hadn't experienced anything so painful since the sorceress' torture while he'd been trapped inside the looking-glass. It was almost nauseating. The soft knock on the door sounded more like a sledge hammer pounding against the oaken panel. He moaned softly and tried to lift his head.

"Alice, you shouldn't be here. You promised to stay away from the workshop until the baby comes."

His wife walked softly over to his side and began stroking his hair, gently massaging the back of his head. "Neither should you," she whispered. "You don't need to be working if you're feeling like this."

"Have to…" he mumbled. "Too many orders…They'll be late."

"Well, then, they'll just have to be late. I'm not letting you keep this up. You should be in bed." Laying a hand on his arm, she tried to encourage him to stand. "Come, we'll make you some tea, and – "

"No! No tea!" He shook his head violently, immediately regretting the decision. He leaned away from Alice with his head over the wastebasket, gagging. But he had already embarrassed himself in front of Hazel, and he was determined not do the same in front of his wife. Taking a few steadying breaths, he turned back to Alice, looking apologetic. "I don't think my stomach can take it right now."

Alice frowned worriedly. If there was anything Tarrant loved more than hats, it was tea. She placed a cool hand to his forehead. He was burning up, and his eyes had turned a strange, hazy gray, as if they had been glazed over. "Hatter, how long have you been feeling like this?"

The Hatter closed his eyes, leaning into his wife's hand and relishing the feel of her cool skin against his feverish brow. "Just since this morning. It started a few hours ago."

In the three years since she'd returned to Underland, Alice had never seen her husband this sick. "You need a doctor. I'll fetch Mirana and see if she has any potions that will help with the pain. In the mean time, let's get you to bed."

He looked utterly miserable. "I don't feel like walking, Alice."

"Alright…Well, then, just stay here and try to get some rest." She snatched the hat he'd been working on off the table. "No more hat-making today, alright?"

He nodded slowly, never opening his eyes. "I'm sorry for worrying you."

She placed a soft kiss on his forehead. "You'll feel better soon. I promise. I'll be right back." She turned to leave.

"Alice...?"

She glanced back over her shoulder.

"Stay…"

More than once she'd ignored that plea of his, and every time she'd ended up regretting it. This time she would not make the same mistake. Pulling out a box of fabric to use as a chair, she sat down beside him and took his hand in hers, gently rubbing her thumb along his knuckles. "I'm here. For as long as you need me, I'm here."

Alice sat on a stool, watching the queen flutter around the kitchen like a nervous hummingbird. She'd finally managed to help the Hatter into bed and, after much soothing and comforting, had gotten him to fall asleep.

"I don't understand, Mirana. He was perfectly fine earlier this morning. How could he become so ill in such a short span of time?"  
>Mirana frowned as she scanned the kitchen for the ingredients to make a pain relief potion. She'd been using that recipe a lot lately, as well as her healing potion, to help Stayne with his legs, and she was beginning to run low on some of the necessary components.<p>

"I'm afraid Time has never been on the Hatter's side, Alice."

Alice sighed, somewhat irritated with the queen's attempt at a joke. "But what would cause an illness like this? I've never seen him look that bad before. He didn't even want any tea!"

"Perhaps he's just tired. He's been under a lot of stress lately, and from what you've told me, he hasn't had much sleep. Not to mention the fact that he spent nearly all of last week locked up in his workshop, working day in and day out to keep from worrying about you while you were away. Or perhaps it's the mercury that's giving him headaches. I don't mind giving him some time off if he needs it."

Alice shook her head. "But that still wouldn't explain all the other symptoms." She frowned. "Do you have anything that could cure it? Some sort of special healing potion that works on sicknesses rather than just physical injuries?"

"Alice, dear, I'm afraid even I don't know _all_ the answers. I can give him something to relieve his pain, and I can give him a sleeping draught to help him rest if you feel it's necessary, but that is all."

Alice huffed. "I wish there was some sort of magic cure-all potion."

Mirana smiled sadly. "Don't we all?"

Alice dipped a cloth into the basin of cold water on the bedside table and held it to her husbands' forehead. It had been almost a week since the mysterious illness had taken hold of him, and things had gotten progressively worse. He hadn't eaten more than a few bites of food over the past few days, and whatever he had managed to swallow generally didn't stay down for long.

Then the chills had come, along with the hallucinations. Though she was used to his occasional fits of madness and regular bouts of nightmares, she hadn't been prepared for the screaming, thrashing, delusional state he'd come to be in. At one point, she'd had to call in some of the guards to restrain him until Mirana had come in with a sleeping potion, but when he'd woken up, it had started all over again. What bothered her more than anything, however, was that he could look straight at her and not even know she was there. If he saw her at all, he usually didn't recognize her, shying away from her touch or gripping onto her arm with a force she knew he'd never handle her if he'd been aware of his surroundings. Sometimes he would shout out nonsense words or recite ancient Outlandish rhymes like the jabberwocky poem. Sometimes he would talk to people she couldn't see, to family members who had long been dead. And sometimes he would just stare off into space with a blank expression on his face, looking more like a statue than a human being. One day when Mirana and Stayne had come to check on him, he'd taken one look at the former knave and flown into a fury of Outlandish curses, believing he was still in the prisons of Salazen Grum. Though too weak to stand, he'd thrashed around in the bed until Alice feared he'd hurt himself, and Mirana had been forced to wheel her husband out of the room as Tarrant attempted to get out of the bed, screaming the cry of the resistance: "Downal wyth the Bluddy Big Hid!"

But even that had been preferable to the state he was currently in. Now, he was completely silent, had slipped entirely into the realm unconsciousness. He hadn't opened his eyes in nearly two days, and Alice was beginning to seriously worry about her husband.

Tarrant moaned uncomfortably and tried to turn over on his side. Everything hurt. Every sound seemed ten times louder. Every sliver of light seemed a thousand times brighter. Every touch seemed to sting. Not even Mirana's pain relieving potions could help now. He didn't know where he was. He couldn't see or hear anyone, but he felt something cool and wet against his face, and he leaned into it, hoping it would alleviate the burning sensation in his skin. _Burning…fire…Have to save Alice from the fire!...jabberwocky...Alice killed the jabberwocky…jabberwocky blood…Alice drank the jabberwocky blood…purple blood not red blood…Blood…red…Bloody Red Queen!_

_That's right, Hat Man. _

_ Who said that?_

_ Oh, don't tell me you've forgotten me already! After I worked so hard to get rid of your precious little Alice, I thought you'd remember…_

_ Iracebeth! _

_ Ah, good, so you do remember. Perhaps you're not as unintelligent as you look._

_ Wha' are ye doin' 'ere?_

_Don't you know? Alice is in need of elimination…And since Stayne failed me, I have decided to use you. Actually, I suppose I should thank him for that…You see, I couldn't have the pleasure of being the one to actually do the killing myself last time, but your mind is much weaker than his. It shouldn't be problem for me to control you. Oh, to see the look on her face when she dies by the hand of her own husband!_

_ Ah'll ne'er harm Alice! _

_ My poor, confused madman, I'm afraid I'm not giving you the option. I'm inside your head now, and you will do whatever I say._

_ Ah will NOT bow to ye! Ah will not be yer slave! _

_ Oh, don't worry…It won't last for long. Just as soon as Alice is dead, I will release you, but for now you belong to ME._

Alice stared out the window, watching the rain splatter against the glass and the lightning illuminate the dark sky. She sighed.

"You should get some rest, Alice. You've hardly slept at all this past week. Let me tend to him for awhile."

Alice turned from the window and shook her head. "Thank you, Mirana, but I just can't leave him. Not when he's like this..." There were tears in her eyes. "What if he never wakes up?"

Mirana stood beside Alice, placing a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Not even Underlanians are immune to death, Alice. We may live much longer than Overlanders, but we are not immortal. 'To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under heaven…A time to be born and a time to die…' [1] Everyone's Time comes sooner or later, Alice."

"I know. But I'm not ready for our time together to be over. I can't raise this child alone, Mirana!" She let a few tears slide down her cheeks. "I can't look at my son or daughter every day and see his eyes staring back at me when I know I'll never see him again in this life!"

"Alice you have always been a strong, willful young woman. You will survive this, one way or another, and you will come out the better for it. You will be able to take care of your child because you will love him. A child is a very special gift, Alice. It is a product of your love, living proof that the two of you have truly become one in body and spirit and mind. And even if Tarrant should not be able to see his little one come into the world, there is a part of him that is within you, within your child. You may lose him, Alice, but you will never lose his love. Nothing can ever take that away. Not even death."

Alice turned back to the window and let the tears fall, quietly crying and silently praying for her husband and best friend. When Mirana pulled her into an embrace, she did not resist, weeping into her friend's shoulder and not even caring about ruining her dress. At long last, the queen bid her champion goodnight, and Alice returned to her seat by the bed, pulling out a book and attempting to read it, though her mind was far from the pages in front of her.

A sudden movement in the bed drew her attention. She set the book down on the nightstand and leaned over her husband. "Hatter? Tarrant, are you awake?"

His lips were moving, but there was no sound coming out, as though he was having a conversation within himself. She gently caressed his cheek. "It's going to be alright, love. Can you open your eyes for me? Hatter?"

Slowly, for the first time in days, his eyes fluttered open, but they were no longer fevered and confused, nor were they their usual bright green. They were red. A deep, crimson red that bordered on burgundy, darker than Alice had ever seen even in his worst bouts with madness. They were the color of wine. The color of blood.

Alice gasped and stepped back. "Hatter?"

He gave a vicious grin as he stood, towering over Alice. A flash of lightning lit up the room, giving his face an eerie glow. When he spoke, the voice he used was not his own. "Oh, no, Alice. The Hatter is gone. Iracebeth has returned."

[1] Ecclesiastes 3:1-2


	7. Love as Strong as Death

**Chapter Seven: Love as Strong as Death [1]**

Alice took a step back, glaring at the figure in front of her. "What have you done with him? What have you done to my husband?"

Though Tarrant's body stepped toward her, it was the Red Queen who answered. "Oh, don't worry. He'll be fine. A bit upset once he learns that he's responsible for your death, I suppose, but nothing too serious. I think _you're_ the one you should be worried about right now."

"I don't care what you do to me, Iracebeth, but leave my husband out of it!"

He stepped closer, pushing her back. "Oh, but it's so much more fun this way! By the time I'm finished with the two of you, he'll be so upset over what he's done, he'll lose whatever sanity he had left! I suppose, if you wanted to save him the pain of it all, you could always eliminate the problem yourself…It would save us all a great deal of trouble, really."

"I will do no such thing!"

"Good. Because I'd rather prefer to take off your head myself." He ripped a decorative dagger from its display on the wall, pointing the tip at her chest.

"You won't get away with this, Iracebeth! Tarrant will stop you."

He chuckled darkly. "My dear girl, the only way that he can stop me is to stop his own heart! As long as his body lives, he is under MY command! Of course, you could stop me…but I'm willing to bet that you won't." He offered her the dagger. "Go on, Alice…Save yourself. Save that little one that you and your Hat Man so dearly love. Or are you so selfish that you would give up an unborn child's life to save that mentally deranged husband of yours?"

Alice looked at the sword, then into his eyes. There was no trace of the man she knew and loved, no warmth, not even madness. There was only _her_. And yet she could not bring herself to end his life. She looked down again, defeated.

"Ha! Where's your muchness now, Champion?" In an instant, she was pinned against the wall, and the blade was at her throat. A deafening roll of thunder shook the castle, rattling the windows and sending tremors up the walls. "I don't usually believe in giving my victims last words, but I plan to make your death as painfully long and drawn out as possible, so I'll give you one last chance to speak your mind."

Alice took a deep breath and looked into the wine-dark eyes of a man who was not her husband but had her husband's face. "Hatter," she wept, "I know that you're still in there somewhere. If you can hear me, please know that I don't blame you for this…and that I love you."

For a brief moment, his eyes flashed green, and she thought she saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes. He lowered the knife. "Alice…?"

"Hatter?" Alice smiled through her tears. She sighed in relief. "I knew you'd come through."

_NO! You are MINE! You belong to ME, and you will DO AS I SAY!_

_ Mah heart belongs tah Alice, but there is nae part o' me that will EVER belong tah _YE_!_

_You're not strong enough to defeat me, Hat Man! _

His eyes were a swirl of emerald and maroon. He knew he couldn't hold her off forever. "Help me, Alice…Help me get rid of her once and for all."

She shook her head, refusing to believe what he was asking her to do. "No. NO! I won't let you!"

He looked at her with tears in his eyes, tracing her cheek with his bandaged thumb. "Ye said ye love me, Alice. Now ye 'ave tah let me go." He placed a hand on her stomach. "Tell the wee li'ul boy tha' Ah love 'im."

"Hatter, NO!"

Turning from her, he ran to the balcony, flinging open the French doors with enough force to shatter the glass. Raising the dagger high over his head, he prepared to drive the weapon home. His hands shook with determination rather than fear.

_You're wrong, Iracebeth. You're wrong because love is greater than fear. Because love is as strong as death. And because I love Alice more than I love my life._

But before he could plunge the knife into his chest, a bolt of lightning zigzagged across the night sky and found the tip of the blade. Suddenly, there was a blinding, white-hot light and searing heat. A wave of excruciating pain traveled down his arm and slammed into his chest. He could feel the electricity coursing through his veins, weaving purple spider webs across his skin. He heard a sizzling, popping noise. He heard Alice scream. Then there was silence save for the beating of his heart which stammered…then stuttered…then stopped.

"HATTER!"

Alice screamed as she watched her husband's legs give way beneath him. The dagger clattered to the floor, and he crumpled like a paper flower left out in the rain. Racing out into the storm, she knelt at his side, putting her fingers to first his throat, then his wrist. No pulse. Frantically, she started ripping open his soaking wet jacket, trying desperately to get to his chest. Surely, there was a beat. Surely, he could not be gone. But when she put her hand over his heart, she felt no movement within. Panicking, she shook him by the shoulders.

"Hatter! Hatter, get up. Tarrant, this isn't funny!" She shook a bit more forcefully. "Tarrant Hightopp, don't you dare leave me! DON'T YOU DARE! You're my other half, remember? I need you…Please," she sobbed, "don't leave me."

Alice laid her head on his silent, empty chest and cried, letting her tears mingle with the cold, unforgiving rain. She barely noticed when Mirana, who had heard the commotion down the hall, came running in. She hardly cared that the rain was getting harder. She heard neither the queen's condolences nor her attempts to convince her to come inside. Numb with grief and weak from fatigue, she fell asleep against his chest, listening to the rhythm of the rain beating against the balcony railing. If she tried really hard, she could pretend for a moment that it was the beating of his heart.

_Thump-thump._ Alice didn't want to wake up because she knew what she would wake up to. _Thump-thump_. Why did this dream have to seem so real? She felt the warm, golden rays of the morning sun on her face, her wet clothes and hair clinging uncomfortably close to her body. She'd have to open her eyes sooner or later. _Thump-thump._ She sighed. She would miss that sound. At long last, she forced herself to wake up, allowing her eyes to flutter open. _Thump-thump_. Oh, drat! That dream was still hanging around. Alice gave herself a good pinch on the arm. _Ouch! That really hurt! _

_Thump-thump._ Wait. There it was again! And if she wasn't dreaming, then…Alice sat straight up.

"HATTER!"

His eyes fluttered open. "No need tah shout, luv. Ah'm mad, not deaf!" He smiled weakly.

And then she was sobbing and laughing and holding him close. "Oh, Hatter! B-but how did…I-I mean, I thought your heart stopped, and I assumed you were dead and – "

"It did."

Alice stopped laughing. "What?"

"It did stop. Only for a moment, but it was long enough. The Red Queen is gone."

"Then you were…?"

"Dead? Yes. Well, sort of. Though I suppose it really depends on what your definition of dead is, seeing as I did turn out alright in the end, and I'm very happy about that because I really wanted to see our child and I would have hated to leave you and I suppose you would have missed me, too, though I would understand if you didn't and – "

"Hatter," Alice chuckled.

He shook his head. "Sorry. I'm fine!"

"Of course I would miss you, you crazy, mad, wonderful man!" Alice wrapped him in her arms and kissed him passionately on the lips. Suddenly, she pulled back to look him in the eye. "And don't you EVER scare me like that again, Tarrant Hightopp, or I will give Chess your hat and tell him to hide in a place where you will never find it again!"

"Oooh! I like the sound of that," purred a voice from overhead. The blue and gray cat slowly materialized on the railing of the balcony, his ever-present grin larger than ever. "So, I see that our Sleeping Beauty has awakened."

The Hatter rolled his eyes. "Good mornin' tah ye, too, Chess!"

The cat suddenly disappeared, then rematerialized near Tarrant's shoulder. "I do so love that hat…Are you certain you won't consider bequeathing it to me?"

"Fergit it, cat."

"Well, that is a pity, seeing as though I was the one to take care of it these past few days while you were…otherwise occupied. I was going to give it back if you were willing to share, but..."

The Hatter stood, glaring at the offending feline. "Chessur, yew stinkin', slurking, urpish, pilgar-lickin', shukum-scutted – "

The cat simply rolled his eyes and vanished in a wisp of turquoise smoke, returning a few seconds later with the hat in tow. "I was only joking, Tarrant. After such an ordeal as yours, a hat is the very least that you deserve. As a matter of fact, I believe the king and queen were planning a rather large, expensive funeral…"

"Oh!" Alice gasped. "I completely forgot that Mirana came in last night! We must tell her the good news immediately! Would you kindly fetch her and Stayne, please, Chess?"

"My dear, I am a cat. If you want someone who will go fetch things for you, you should talk to Bayard."  
>"Chess..."<p>

The cat floated around her head, seeming not to notice the urgency in her voice. "Nothing personal, Alice, but cats simply do not do 'fetch.' Now, if I were dog, mind you, I'd – "

"Chess, I really need you go get Mirana…"

The Hatter looked at his wife, confused by her sudden change in manner. "Alice, are you alright?"

"Yes, but…I think…I think my water just broke."

Tarrant's eyes went wide. "Chessur, ye lazy cat, git yer fuzz-bottomed scut in there an' git the queen, NAUW!"

[1] Reference to Song of Solomon 8:6. Song of Solomon is one of the greatest love poems I've ever read and quite possibly one of my favorite books of the Bible.


	8. The Next Generation

**Chapter Eight: The Next Generation**

Tarrant and Stayne leaned against the frame of the door leading out to the castle gardens, watching with semi-amused expressions as a small boy with strawberry blonde curls chased Violet around the fountain. The rambunctious seven year-old princess, whose dark locks now fell to her waist in long, loose curls, was every bit as beautiful as her mother and as mischievous as her father. The boy, now a full four years old, possessed his father's electric green eyes and his mother's fair (though not as fair as Tarrant's) complexion. With Alice's curiosity and just a touch of Tarrant's madness, he was becoming quite a handful.

Sticking her tongue out at the younger boy, Violet ran screaming in mock terror as he chased her through the roses, around the cherry trees and back to the fountain. When she glanced back over her shoulder, she was surprised to see that the boy had disappeared. Curiously, she turned back to the fountain, looking into its reflective waters to see if she might catch him sneaking up behind her. Leaning in closer to study the mirror-like surface, she jumped back in surprise when the boy suddenly popped up from beneath the water and gave her a thoroughly good splashing.

Tarrant stood up straight. "Phoenix Charles Hightopp! Wha' 'ave Ah tol' ye abauwt playin' in th' fountain? Tha's nae way tah treat a young lady!"

The four year-old pouted. "But she started it!"

"Ah dinnae care who started it, Ah'll finish it! [1] Nauw gae apologize."

Sulking, he turned back to find Violet and was met with an unexpected splash in his direction. The princess smirked at his stunned expression before jumping completely into the fountain – good silks and all – and initiating a splash war.

Stayne grinned and chuckled softly as he watched the scene play out before him, reminding him of a similar situation he'd once found himself in many years ago.

Tarrant just shook his head and sighed. "I don't know what I'm going to do with that boy."

"Ah, Tarrant, let them have their fun. You're only young once, you know."

"Yes, and they grow up so quickly. I can't believe Phoenix is already four years old! Before long he'll be wanting to court Violet!"

"They do seem to get along well…But mark my words, Hightopp, if he ever makes my daughter cry, I'll set him on Bandersnatch bath duty for the rest of his life!"

Tarrant laughed.

"What are you two going on about?"

Both men turned to see their wives coming up to the open door from inside the castle. Alice was in the lead, carrying a picnic basket. Mirana was close behind with a table cloth draped over her arm.

Stayne looped his arm around his wife. "The future, the past, and a bit of everything in between." He nodded to the children playing in the fountain. "Does that look familiar to you?"

Mirana smiled. "Quite."

Alice sat her basket down by the doorway and wrapped her husband in a hug. "We thought you two might be getting hungry, so we brought you some lunch."

"Yes," Mirana smiled up at Stayne. "Thackery made some of those tasty little tarts you love so much."

"I know of something else I'd love much more, my queen."

Mirana blushed and gave him a playful slap. "Stayne, hush! The children will hear you!"

Alice snorted. "My mother was right! That _is_ all you men think about, isn't it?"

"Oh, no, of course not!" Tarrant piped up. "Why, there's tea and hats and spoons and unbirthday parties and teapots and nursery rhymes and riddles and – "

There was a collective shout. "HATTER!"

Tarrant giggled nervously. "Sorry."

Stayne shook his head and rolled his eye. "Only you, Hightopp. Only you."

Mirana and Alice shared a sly glance.

"Well, if the two of you are up for a little fun and games, then so are we," Mirana commented. "On one condition…"

The men looked at one another, confused. "Which is…?"

Alice smirked. "You have to catch us first!"

In one quick, fluid motion, Alice snatched the hat off her husband's head and made a mad dash for the fountain with Mirana close behind and both of the men right on their heels. Squealing like a couple of schoolgirls, Mirana and Alice jumped into the water and started splashing at their husbands, who promptly joined them, along with the children, who found their parents' antics rather amusing. After hours of undignified, improper, unruly splashing and laughing, there was undoubtedly more water _outside_ of the fountain than in it, and the families emerged from the pool, soaking wet from head to toe. Their clothes were ruined, their shoes were soggy, and their hair was plastered to their heads, but there was no doubt that they were happy.

Later that evening, as they watched the setting sun sink slowly behind the horizon from their bedroom window, Alice couldn't help but think about how lucky she was. Leaning her head against the Hatter's shoulder, she sighed contentedly.

"Well, now I've slain a jabberwocky, defeated a sorceress, married, survived two murder attempts by the ghost of a former enemy, and given birth to a beautiful son. It would seem as though my adventures in Wonderland have finally come to an end."

"Oh, no, Alice," her husband smiled, "this is only the beginning."

[1] Reference to _Ice Age_ where Sid tells Manny that the baby started the fight, and Manny's response is "I don't care who started it, I'll finish it!"


End file.
